Two: Luca Capaldi

Two

Luca Capaldi

It was strange, stepping into my father’s office. Giuseppe Capaldi had been an intimidating figure that ran half of Boston. In polite society, people said my family was in “real estate”. In the criminal world, people knew what that was code for. Cosa nostra.

The mob.

Giuseppe had been our family’s consigliere. The don. The motherfucking Godfather. People kissed his rings, and did his bidding. But Giuseppe was dead. He’d been shot by the last person I ever expected to shoot him. My wife.

I’d been married to Audrina Bianchi since we were teenagers. No one else knew except for us. And Audrina had gone out of her way to make sure that was the case. It had happened in Vegas, a last ditch attempt to keep her from being forced into a marriage with Russian Bratva. As long as Andre Antonov thought she was mine, Audrina was safe.

But no one else in our world knew the truth. And I’d gone to great lengths to keep it that way. Because I was pretty sure if Daniela Berni, m